


Shot to the Heart

by River9Noble



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Detective Comics (Comics), Suicide Squad (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Romance, Comics based Deadshot, F/M, Fisting, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pairings, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Stephshot, THE FIRST STEPHSHOT ON AO3 OMG, a little plot is hinted at though, and some feelings snuck in, heard but not seen, it wanted to be a longfic but I said NO, slightly undernegotiated kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River9Noble/pseuds/River9Noble
Summary: Steph hooks up with the devil after a traumatic event - but even the worst devils can sometimes appear as an angel of light.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Floyd Lawton
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14
Collections: Focus on Female Characters





	Shot to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This tried SO HARD to turn into a longfic but I just could not - I still have FOUR wip longfics you guys. Just counting what's posted! Not even counting what's in my drafts! 
> 
> But my new rarepair would not leave me alone until I published it!!!!!!!!

Steph's stomach was flipping over like a car engine that wouldn't start by the time she made it to the address that Deadshot had given her, which turned out to be a rundown, abandoned apartment building off of a dark alley deep in the Narrows.

She saw the lighted end of his cigarette first when she swung onto the roof, her heart pumping twice as fast as it had been when she'd joined him on a different rooftop earlier that evening, but whether it was from nerves or guilt or arousal, Steph really didn't care to analyze.

"Hi, honey," Floyd's southern accent drawled across the dark shadows as he flicked his cigarette away, pushing himself off of the wall that he'd been leaning on to come and greet his surely-going-straight-to-hell Batgirl.

"Hi," Steph mumbled with a tongue that was tangled up in shame.

But Floyd didn't give her a chance to dwell on that, because he was right up in her space before she could blink, a hand grasping her behind the head and pulling her into a searing kiss. His tongue pumped into her mouth with dirty, slippery strokes that made Steph moan while her pussy fluttered.

Floyd's other hand, meanwhile, had covered the distance to her ass in record time and was now firmly massaging Batgirl's curvy, shapely derriere with a confident grip that made Steph clench her legs together in delight.

"Fuck, you're hot," Deadshot took a moment to mumble against her lips before he went right back to kissing her, sucking and nipping on her tongue and lips this time while he ground his already hard cock into her pelvis.

Steph's nipples perked up into pebbles and she began pressing them up against Floyd's chest, letting out little sighs and gasps as she dragged them against his muscles through her Batsuit, all the while drowning in his kisses and thinking dizzily that she'd never felt so wet, so fast before. Apparently self-loathing was a good lubricant.

Floyd's right hand slid from Steph's neck to her back, firmly snaking around her waist and holding her close. His hand on her butt suddenly disappeared, but Steph didn't have time to miss it before it suddenly cracked against her ass.

"Fuck!" Steph gasped, shivering closer into Floyd's body after she jumped in surprise. "What the hell was that?" she growled at him.

"Did you like it?" Floyd asked her in a dark voice that said it already knew the answer to his question.

And Steph had to pause and reflect, because, well, now that she thought about it, her clit had tingled and her pussy had throbbed when Floyd spanked her and was she even a little wetter now than she had been before?

"Yeah," Steph said, figuring what the hell.

She wasn't hooking up with Deadshot up for boring sex, after all. Steph was desperate to drown in adrenaline and lust and self-recrimination until she stopped thinking about Jim Gordon's brains on the sidewalk and Oracle's tears.

"You can keep spanking me," Steph told Floyd, "but stop if I tell you to," she warned him with a serious Batgirl look.

"Will do," Floyd said easily, drawing his hand back again and smacking it down hard on her ass.

And this time he didn't wait, but cracked out another blow, and then another one, each one sending a rush of flames and desire to Steph's pussy until she was hanging off of Floyd's neck more than she was standing up on her own two feet. Every crack of his hand against her ass hurt, but it felt good, too, because Steph deserved it for daring to fuck the man who'd just killed her friend's father.

Although, the way Steph's clit was singing, her heavy spanking could barely be considered a punishment. Steph's mind was just starting to bliss out and she was melting into Floyd's chest when she felt him start tugging the zipper of her Batsuit down.

"You want to have sex right here?" Steph mumbled against his neck in surprise.

"You've never done it on a roof before?" Floyd grinned at her as he kept undressing her compliant body.

"Nope," Steph said with a slow smile spreading across her face. "We should definitely fix that."

"Yeah, we should," Floyd grinned, bending down to help Batgirl get her feet out of her boots while she clung to him for balance, still feeling pleasantly woozy and detached, like all the sharp, jagged glass edges from earlier that night were being polished down into something slightly smoother.

Steph unbuckled her Batbelt with one hand, letting it lazily fall to the ground before unclipping her cape and letting it drop with equally careless regard. That done, Floyd helped her shimmy the rest of the way out of her suit, but he made no attempt to remove her cowl.

Which, ok, probably shouldn't have touched Steph's heart, but it was respectful and she appreciated not having to rapidly switch from dreamy foreplay to kicking Deadshot's ass.

Steph didn't have too much time to focus on that thought, though, because Floyd was tugging off her sports bra and pulling off her panties. The cool night breeze on Steph's wet slit made her smile and Floyd grinned back at her, reaching fingers down to slide between her folds.

"Fuck, you're wet," he said with well-earned pride.

Deadshot surprised Steph by dropping to the ground and scootching himself in-between her legs before laying out on his back.

"Come sit," he ordered her, tapping on her calves.

Steph gave him a look.

"You gonna take your cock out first?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I meant sit on my face, doll," Floyd laughed.

Steph inhaled sharply, excitement flooding her belly.

"You never face-sat before, either?" Floyd asked her as Steph carefully lowered herself down to his mouth.

"No one's ever offered," Steph said, biting her lip as Floyd confidently reached for her folds and helped her get lined up.

His eyes smirked up at her in the moonlight before he sent a pointed, probing tongue out to find her clit, and Steph groaned in delight when he made contact and began to lap at it.

And holy fuck, was Floyd good at oral, Steph thought dazedly as she sat on her knees and got her pussy eaten out. Flat tongue, narrow tongue, long strokes, short strokes, circles, Floyd was painting a picture on her slit and clit that made Steph's moans get progressively louder.

Batgirl's throaty wails turned to keening cries when she felt her orgasm start to rush towards her, and Floyd didn't falter but licked his way to victory, sucking down firmly on her clit as Steph came hard and long, sensation shooting out into her toes as she arched and moaned on top of Deadshot while clutching his hair tight in her fingers.

Floyd's hands gripped Steph's waist, holding her steady as she shook and shuddered her way through the last dregs of her orgasm, and when she tried to pull her too-sensitive clit away from Floyd's mouth, he refused to let her go, tugging her back down and ramping up his assault until Steph's toes were curling on the rough concrete rooftop. She screamed when she came the second time, a desperate, ragged cry that had suspicious notes of grief and pain and sorrow mingled amidst the pleasure.

"Oh, my God," Steph mumbled weakly, slumping onto Floyd's chin only to be tipped backwards and caught in his arms as he stood up. She hung limply as Floyd carried her over to the waist-high ledge enclosing the rooftop, although she came to when he placed her bare feet on the ground and leaned her forward over the edge.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Steph asked in confusion as her boobs dangled in mid-air. "Floyd," she hissed at him in the dark. "Someone could see."

"Not likely," he grinned from behind her. "We're too high up and there's not enough lights around."

"Yeah, but…" Steph said hesitantly, trailing off and chewing her lip as she thought it over.

"Tonight's your night to be a bad girl," Floyd reminded Batgirl, reaching out from behind her to gently cup her boobs.

"Show it off, baby. Live on the edge," he whispered into her ear as he fondled her breasts, gently rubbing slow thumbs over her taut nipples, chilly in the night air.

Steph took a deep breath and felt a rush of daring flood her veins. If she was gonna do bad, she was gonna do it right, she decided.

"Ok," she giggled. "This _is_ pretty hot," Steph breathed out as she looked down over her breasts swinging freely off of the roof, reeling in a heady mix of shame and daring and naughtiness and power as she gripped the wall with both hands and grinned into the night which was only briefly punctuated by one or two widely spaced, flickering streetlights twenty stories down below.

"Hang on tight," Floyd grinned behind her while he unwrapped and rolled on a condom. "But I won't let you go," he promised.

"You'd better not," Steph warned as Deadshot gently nudged her legs further apart with his knee.

Steph felt his cock probe at her entrance, but Floyd worked the tip up and down her slick channel and ground it into her still throbbing clit a few times, making her whimper and moan, before he pushed his cock deep inside of her.

"Oh, fuck," Steph groaned happily, thrusting her ass back against his hips to settle him even further in.

"You can say that again, Batgirl," Floyd breathed out, sounding supremely satisfied and somewhat smug.

He wrapped an arm firmly around her waist and tangled Steph's long blonde hair up in his other hand before slowly pulling back and snapping his cock inside of her.

"God," Steph cried out before Floyd set a hard, fast pace which made her breasts jiggle and bounce in the air while Floyd fucked Batgirl's bent over figure.

"Scream," Floyd egged her on. "Make somebody look up and try to see."

Steph didn't answer except with a low moan, but her pussy clenched him a little tighter at the suggestion, and Floyd did not fail to notice.

"Come on, be filthy," he urged Batgirl, sensing her desire to let loose. "Look down at the street and show me how good this feels," he said.

And as Steph looked down at the shadowy sidewalk, where she could make out a few random people shuffling by, she couldn't deny that the thought of someone happening to hear her but not quite being able to see her on display above them made her pussy buzz with delighted anticipation.

"Scream for me, Batgirl," Floyd eagerly begged again, and as he suddenly hit the perfect spot with his cock, Steph felt her inhibitions slip away and she let out a loud, wailing moan, which she was quite sure made some heads raise in surprise.

"Fuck, yeah," Floyd growled in a huskier voice.

He tugged on her hair with his next hard thrust into Steph's quivering, dripping pussy that was drinking up his fucks and simmering with a fiery blaze that Steph had never felt quite so intensely before.

Steph had always had fairly safe, vanilla sex that matched her safe, vanilla vigilante persona. But as she moaned and groaned above the streets of Gotham, the flames inside her burned hotter and hotter as more people stopped to look up and search for the source.

"Yes," Steph shrieked when she saw a window across the street slide up and a head poke out into the dark night.

"Fuck, yeah," Floyd grunted, noticing even more windows and shadowy heads but getting more turned on by Steph's reaction to it than to his own.

"You like this, don't you, Batgirl?" he growled quietly as he kept snapping his hips against her ass so hard that his balls slapped her clit with every thrust.

"Yes," Steph moaned, arching her back and twerking hard against his cock, loving the tight tug of Floyd's hand in her hair that was sending tingles all the way down her spine, and getting even more turned on as gravity tugged and pulled at her bouncing boobs that flopped freely over the street far below.

As Steph howled and moaned in a way that would have made a porn star proud, she vaguely recognized that common sense would dictate that she feel embarrassed, but she wasn't - she felt stronger and more powerful than she'd ever felt in her life, getting her pussy pounded in public by Deadshot and having her breasts on display in the dark and screaming her mounting climax out to the wind and the gaping Gothamites who were still searching the skyline to try to find the show.

Steph gasped when Floyd fucked into her g-spot one final perfect time and she screamed as loud and pornographically as she could while she wantonly came, showing off and daring everyone to try to look and see her whimpering and writhing around Floyd's cock as he came, too, with several short thrusts and a low moan, before finishing with a grunt.

"Get a room!" someone shouted from down below them.

"No, don't!" someone else yelled back.

Some scattered applause floated up to Steph's ears and she giggled as she pushed herself up and leaned back against Floyd, who didn't hesitate to pull her further back towards the center of the roof.

"I gotta get dressed and get out of here," Steph said in a dazed after-panic. "Before someone comes up and catches us."

"They ain't gonna know what building we're on," Floyd said calmly as he tossed the used condom aside and started scooping up Steph's Batsuit and gear.

"Besides, I thought the night was just getting started," he added meaningfully.

"Oh," Steph said, halting in surprise with her boots in hand. "Really?" she said with a slow grin.

"Hell, yes, really," Floyd grinned back. "My safehouse is on the top floor," he said. "Come on."

He led her over to the fire escape on the far side of the building, fortunately away from their audience's searching eyes, and yeah, Steph was still naked, but Floyd was crawling into the first window with her gear so she figured what the hell and quickly climbed down after him.

Floyd pinched Steph's ass affectionately before shutting and locking the window behind them and pulling the shade down, tugging the heavy black curtains closed for good measure.

He was already crossing the room before Steph's brain kicked back on, and she was just getting the word, "Wait -" out of her mouth when he flipped the light switch on.

The pit of Steph's stomach sank when Floyd turned around to face her, drawing up short in shock as he halted in his tracks and raked her body over with undisguised horror in his dark eyes.

"I'm sorry," Steph mumbled, ineffectively trying to cover the worst of the scars on her stomach and breasts with her arms as her face lit up red.

"What the hell are you sorry for?" Floyd said in confusion, slowly walking forward to examine Batgirl more closely, his face still looking numb with some indistinguishable emotion.

"For killing the mood," Steph muttered with a few tears forcing their way to the surface as she feebly tried to resist Floyd's attempts to move her arms so that he could get a better look at her scars. "I know how disgusting they are," Steph said bitterly.

"Batgirl," Floyd said in surprise, finally drawing his gaze up from her scars to her eyes. "Babe," he said.

She blinked when he brought both hands up to cup her face firmly.

"You know why I became Deadshot?" he asked her, and that was so not what she was expecting Floyd to say that Steph just shook her head no.

"My mom wanted me and my brother to kill my abusive sonofabitch father when we were kids," Floyd said in an even voice.

Steph inhaled sharply.

"My brother locked me in the boathouse to keep me out of it," Floyd continued matter-of-factly, "but I wanted to stop him. He was a good kid," Floyd said, "and killing my dad would have ruined him. I didn't have time to catch up to him so I climbed a tree near the house so I could shoot his gun out of his hands before he did it."

"What happened?" Steph whispered.

"The tree branch broke just as I took my shot and I killed my brother," Floyd said grimly, a shadow of emotion finally licking his voice.

A whimper slipped out of Steph's throat.

"Why - why -?" she tried to ask him, searching his face for the meaning of his story.

"You're not the only one with scars, baby," Floyd said in a rough voice as his eyes pierced hers, sharp and honest and oddly compassionate.

Steph gulped and to her dismay felt hot tears start slipping down her cheeks.

"Come here," Floyd said gently, pulling her into his arms and cuddling her tight against his chest while he stroked the back of her cowl with one hand.

Steph's tears quickly turned to out of control sobs colored with embarrassment, but Floyd was soothing her and telling her it was ok and then scooping her legs up to carry her over to the couch.

Steph wrapped her arms around Floyd's neck and buried her face in his shoulder, still crying, while he held her in his lap and gently rocked her.

Dimly, deep in Steph's soul, a flicker of concern lit a tiny candle. She wasn't supposed to like Jim Gordon's murderer. She'd only come here to fuck him so she could wallow in feeling like a piece of shit while simultaneously avoiding thinking about the reason why she felt like a piece of shit to begin with.

Win-win. Or lose-lose. But either way, Deadshot was not supposed to be comforting Steph's deepest anxieties about sex and her body and her attractiveness post-Black-Mask's-drill.

"Sionis did this?" Floyd asked her quietly some time later, when Steph had stopped crying and was instead nestling her cheek against his chest while he rubbed slow circles on her back

"Yeah," Steph said in wonder, lifting her head up to look at him.

Deadshot grunted.

"We all heard what he did to the girl Robin," he said. "Didn't know that was you, Batgirl."

"Yep," Steph mumbled.

"Figures you'd get back out there," Floyd smiled at her with a friendly kindness in his eyes.

"Really?" Steph said, gaping at him. "That's not what anyone else figures. They all think I'm nuts."

Floyd snorted in derision.

"Cause they ain't never been through real shit, that's why," he said. "What are you gonna do, hide for the rest of your life and let your fears control you? Or you gonna get back out there and kick ass? Makes perfect sense to me," he said approvingly.

And a warm flare lit in Steph's heart that most of the Bats had never ignited, because except for Cass, they still didn't believe in her. Babs hadn't even wanted to let Steph become Batgirl and had only reluctantly agreed to mentor her after she refused to hang the suit up that Cass had given her. Before that, Tim had flat out ordered her to stop being Spoiler. As if he had the right! Steph thought angrily, clenching her teeth and remembering why she'd broken up with him.

"That's why you didn't stop shooting guns after what happened with your brother?" Steph asked Floyd, suddenly putting two and two together as she looked up into his eyes.

He smiled at her a little bitterly.

"I stopped missing," he said, and Steph's eyes warmed with empathy and she found herself hugging the killer in a way that really shouldn't have made her feel safe and understood and connected and, God forbid, sorry for him.

"You can take your cowl off now, you know," Floyd said a minute later, after pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I know you're Cluemaster's kid."

"Yeah, thanks, Dad," Steph groused to her dead father, reaching up and tugging her cowl off before tossing it aside.

Floyd gave her a sympathetic smile.

"He thought you were dead."

"Who stays dead in Gotham?" Steph muttered.

Floyd raised an eyebrow.

"Are there zombies walking around here that I don't know about?" he asked her.

Steph opened and closed her mouth quickly, biting her tongue and looking away. Floyd chuckled.

"Fine, don't tell me," he teased her. "As long as I can still kill 'em with a shotgun, I don't mind," he said. "But you didn't actually die though," he pointed out after a minute of silence in a way that was a question.

"No," Steph sighed. "No, I got kidnapped by the doctor who treated me. Who told Batman I'd died."

"Fuck," Floyd said in surprise. "The Bat didn't see through that?" he said skeptically.

Steph bit her lip.

"I wasn't the first Robin to die," she said. "And the doctor was his lifelong friend. He didn't think she'd lie about something like that."

"Well, it kind of serves the Bat right," Floyd said. "But what a bitch, to do that to you. And your family."

"And friends. And boyfriend," Steph added.

"Ex-boyfriend now, I'm guessing?" Floyd asked hopefully, nudging her forehead with his nose.

Steph giggled.

"Yes. I know I'm going to hell for fucking you, but I do draw the line at cheating."

"You're not going to hell," Floyd firmly but kindly argued with her. "You were in shock and I messed with your head. And killed your friend, I guess," he added with a surprising amount of sympathy.

Steph turned to look at him, drawing her eyebrows together angrily.

"You don't get to be nice to me about that!" she said more forcefully.

"Baby, it was just a job," Floyd said, reaching a hand up to run through her hair. "I didn't know you when I took it. I wouldn't have met you if I hadn't. And it wasn't like I had anything against the guy myself."

Steph snarled in frustration and felt the tears starting again.

"I'm friends with his daughter, too, you know," Steph snapped. "In real life. Through college. She's in a fucking wheelchair, Floyd. He was her only family."

"Shit happens," Floyd said, but not without empathy.

"You made that shit happen," Steph shot back. "You don't have to go around killing people for a living."

Deadshot shrugged.

"If I hadn't taken the contract, Deathstroke would have and the Commissioner would still be dead," he said.

Steph shook her head in disgust, but whether it was at Deadshot or herself, she didn't know.

"I'd better go," she muttered, sliding off of his lap and getting up.

"You don't have to," Floyd said with something that sounded like compassion in his voice.

"I kind of do," Steph said, turning back to look at him. "Because you killed my friend's dad and it's my fault, because I couldn't stop you, and I came here to feel better - or worse - I don't know, one of the two - but now I feel like shit."

"Why? Because I'm a nice guy?" Floyd asked, quirking an eyebrow that pierced Steph's conscience.

Steph flushed and turned away from him.

"Oh, it's all fun and exhibitionist games until Deadshot has a heart, is that it?" Floyd teased her, bouncing up after Steph and wrapping her up from behind with his arms.

"I can't do this anymore tonight," Steph muttered without trying to pull away.

"I wasn't talking about staying for sex, babe," Floyd said in a surprisingly kind voice.

"Neither was I," Steph said.

* * *

"Stephanie!" her mother Crystal said into the phone around noon the next day in an urgent, breathless voice when Steph grumpily answered after her mother's repeated calls wouldn't let her stay asleep.

"What?" Steph mumbled with a yawn.

"Black Mask's dead," her mother said in a voice that was relieved and happy and teary and wondrous all at the same time.

"What?" Steph said more sharply, pushing herself upright. "When? How?"

"It's all over the news," Crystal said. "He was murdered in Blackgate."

"By another prisoner?" Steph asked, feeling a tingle of something prick at the back of her awareness.

"Not unless the prisoner had a gun," Crystal said. "Honey, he was shot all up and down his arms and legs and through his torso in multiple places."

Steph's ragged sob didn't seem unusual to her mother given the news.

Crystal kept rambling away in her joy and long-dreamed-of, now-realized vengeance against her daughter's brutal torturer and would-be murderer, eagerly spilling out to Steph all of the gory details that the media had accumulated, plus all of the conspiracy theories and details that journalists and bloggers alike were speculating about motive and perps and how the killer might have gotten into Blackgate, or how an inmate might have gotten a gun, when one detail snagged at Steph's attention.

"And they found him covered in long-stem roses," Crystal said. "Can you believe that?" she prattled on. "How bizarre is that?" she asked Steph in a voice mystified at the ways and means of seriously deranged killers.

"Roses?" Steph repeated in a shaky voice, reaching down and tracing the scars on her stomach with loose fingers.

"Red roses. Isn't that crazy?" Crystal said.

"Yeah," Steph said, swallowing. "Yeah, that's crazy, mom. I'm gonna finish waking up and go read the news, ok?" she said. "Are you working tonight?"

"Back to back twelve hour shifts, yeah," her mom said with concern. "But I could try to switch with someone if -"

"No, no, mom, don't," Steph said quickly. "It's ok. I want to go see Professor Gordon anyway, tonight," she lied. "I'll be fine. I mean, he's dead now, right?"

"Right," her mother said firmly. "I love you," she said.

"Love you, too," Steph replied, starting to tremble as soon as she hung up the phone.

Steph barely paid attention to her tears as she quickly tugged on jeans and a purple hoodie and the wind wiped most of the moisture away, anyhow, as she numbly sped her scooter through town.

This time, Steph went in through the battered front door of the building, hanging ajar off its hinges, although after hearing the wheezy approach of the sketchy, rickety elevator, she ran up the twenty flights of stairs instead, figuring it was her cardio and leg workout for the day combined.

Steph wiped her face on her sleeve before knocking on the door. A second later, it was yanked open and Floyd was standing there looking at her.

Steph sniffed.

"Did - did you -"

"Get you flowers?" Floyd said with a slow smile. "I take it you liked them?"

The air flew out of his chest with the impact of Steph's body flinging itself into his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey," Floyd said gently, backing into the apartment with Steph's sobbing, clinging body attached to his front.

He pushed the door shut and locked it behind them before wrapping Steph up tight in his arms and squeezing her into him even closer than she'd managed to glue herself.

"I got you," Floyd murmured into her hair as Steph's sobs wracked her body.

"Thank you," Steph blubbered into him between gasping heaves.

"Oh, you are quite welcome," Floyd grinned against her head. "I thought some roses might bring you back around," he said.

"Don't get used to it," Steph warned through her tears.

"I don't know, baby," Floyd mused. "Last night you were saying you couldn't even stick around for a cuddle and now I'm gonna need a chisel and a pickaxe to peel you off of me. I think I have a shot."

Steph giggled even though the tears were still streaming down her face.

"Why, why, why -" she asked him, her voice softly yearning for understanding.

"I like you," Floyd shrugged.

He suddenly looked a little guilty.

"And maybe I feel a little bad for making you so sad with yesterday's job after everything you've already been through," he added with some regret.

"You know it doesn't change -" Steph started to say, but she stopped herself.

"I know," Floyd said quietly into her ear, anyway, not needing to speak the truth that they both knew bound them.

Steph wiped her eyes and reached up and kissed him, deep and slow and warm and begging until Floyd began to kiss her back, passionately but so much sweeter than he had last night, tender and deliberate until the tears still leaking out of Steph's eyes were happy ones.

Steph smiled up at Floyd as she reached for his hand and tugged him over to the bed. He let her lead him, but by the time Steph's knees were hitting the edge of the mattress he was gently lifting her sweatshirt over her head and unhooking her bra and pressing kisses to every single scar that Black Mask had marked her with.

"You don't have to," Steph mumbled, starting to turn red, but the heated look that Floyd gave her shut her protests right up.

When they were both naked on the bed and Floyd was kissing his way down her stomach, still tracing her jagged indentations of skin while Steph's hands tangled in his hair, he paused for a minute and looked up at her.

"I've never killed anyone for free before," he said.

Steph gave him a watery smile and stretched her fingertips down towards his lips. Floyd kissed them gently and sucked them into his mouth while one of his hands found Steph's slit and began stroking her, slow and firm and grinding his thumb into her clit on every pass until Steph was arching and moaning around his rhythm.

"God, you're beautiful," Floyd muttered while his tongue swirled around her fingers, and Steph actually felt beautiful under his hands, so she didn't argue with him while she ground her hips against his knuckle in an attempt to gain more friction against her clit.

"You ever been fisted before?" Floyd asked her, letting Steph's fingers go in order to lap at her clit instead.

"No," Steph said in wonder.

She licked her lips.

"It takes patience," Floyd grinned back up at her. "To get you loose enough. But I think you'd love it, if you want to try."

"Yes," Steph whispered with glowing eyes.

"You really enjoyed last night, huh," Floyd commented as he slipped a single finger inside and Steph let out a happy moan.

"Yeah," she breathed out as Floyd began gently finger fucking her in time with her thrusting hips. "I didn't know…" she trailed off to bite her lip and whimper as Floyd hit a particularly good spot.

"I've never done any of that before," Steph said, "and I loved all of it."

"What was your favorite part?" Floyd asked her as he continued to stroke and thrust, mixing in some tongue for good measure as Steph thought.

"The exhibitionism," Steph admitted with a small flush to her cheeks. "But the spanking was good, too, and being outside…"

"What did you like about being on display like that?" Floyd pressed her, reaching for some lube before gently sliding a second finger inside of her.

"Oh," Steph moaned against him, lolling her head back a little more against his pillow. "I felt so powerful and brave," she said after a few more delicious hip circles. "More in control than I've ever felt before in my life," she said.

"Yeah," Floyd murmured against her folds. "That makes sense," he said, "after what you've been through. Breaking the rules feels pretty good now, huh?" he asked her, and Steph nodded.

Floyd kept licking and fingering, getting Steph more and more worked up. He glanced up at her when her moans got particularly loud.

"We gotta make you come at least a few times first, before you'll be open enough, ok?" he asked her and she panted out her agreement against his thrusting fingers as he pushed her through to her first orgasm, the tingling pleasure rushing through her pussy as she wailed and ground down against Floyd's insistent fingers, moaning even more when his thumb found her clit and his fingers wouldn’t let her go but kept driving her forward into a second orgasm that made her squirt all over his hand.

"Fuck, yeah," Floyd muttered with heated admiration as he kept working Steph up.

He pulled his hand out only to apply more lube before gently testing her opening, sliding three fingers in this time and reaching his left hand up to fondle a breast.

"God," Steph grunted out, feeling her eyeballs start to roll back. "That already feels amazing," she moaned. "So full."

"Oh, you're so gonna fucking love this," Floyd smirked as he played with her nipple and cupped her breast while his fingers kept gently pumping into her pussy.

His hand traveled to her other breast and lingered there, and Steph thought dazedly that she'd never felt so pampered. Sure, Tim had taken care of her during sex, but… it felt so ordinary compared to the way that Floyd was spoiling her, taking his time and not even worrying about himself at all.

Her little moans and whimpers kept a soft smile on Floyd's darkly intent face, and when he finally slid his wandering hand down to her furry mound and began massaging it, Steph arched her hips off the bed and let her legs fall open a little wider, and Floyd slipped a fourth finger inside of her slowly unfurling opening.

"Fuck, Floyd," Steph mumbled as a sharp, intense pleasure built up inside of her core. "I'm gonna come again."

"Go ahead, baby," Floyd encouraged her. "This is all about you."

Steph gripped the edges of the sheet as her moans turned to high pitched keens, finally falling into sobs as her pussy exploded and rained, so wet, down onto Floyd's fingers, and the pressure and expanding fullness inside of her felt so incredibly good but not enough, somehow.

"More," Steph begged Floyd with her clogged throat. "More, more," she panted, almost wailing when Floyd withdrew his hand, but it was only to slick it up with an incredible amount of lube and then he was pushing and twisting and gently turning and wiggling over an almost painfully tight squeeze but suddenly his fist was _there,_ inside of her, like an erotic rock scraping against every internal edge of her pussy and peeling away pleasure.

Steph felt the world stop as she gasped and cried out and pulsed and moaned against his fist, and as Floyd twisted his knuckles into her g-spot she came so hard, but it didn't stop, unlike other orgasms, and Steph began screaming as she kept coming and writhed and bucked against Floyd's rock hard fist that didn't give her pussy an ounce of relief, and God, she didn't want it to, because Steph felt not only more turned on, but more complete and whole and filled up and possessed and intimate than she'd ever felt in her life.

And Floyd just watched her sob and gasp on his wrist while he kept rubbing out her clit with his left hand as Steph fell apart, encouraging her cunt into even tighter contractions while Steph blissed out, her eyes rolling back behind her closed eyelids that were leaking out tears while her mouth babbled out nonsense.

She lost track of time as she drowned in waves of pleasure and fulfillment, but eventually Steph felt herself snap back into her body.

"Enough," she mumbled in a ragged voice.

"Ok, baby. Just relax," Floyd told her, taking his time as he gently rotated and uncurled his fingers and worked them out of her.

Steph whimpered when she was empty again, and then Floyd was crouching up over her.

"Can I fuck you?" he asked her. "Or is that too much? It's ok if you can't handle it right now."

"Fuck me," Steph mumbled with a little smile on her face.

Floyd smiled back as he reached for a condom, and then he was up inside her and melting hot kisses into her mouth like maybe she meant something to him, more than sex, and maybe Steph felt that way, too, even though she shouldn't. She limply draped her arms around Floyd's neck while her eyes told him everything she couldn't say out loud, and the way they held each other's gaze felt even hotter than the way that Floyd's cock was fucking her over-sensitive pussy, giving it a playlist of sensations which felt a thousand times better than any normal fuck ever had.

But it was Floyd's eyes that Steph wanted even more than his cock, she realized, losing herself in the depths of the dark, smiling orbs made wispy with strains of tenderness and genuine affection that shattered her soul.

"Floyd," Steph suddenly whimpered into his neck, feeling her pussy clench and tighten in a way that she'd felt quite sure it couldn't possibly do again for at least a week.

"Come on, baby," Floyd murmured into her ear. "You gonna come all pretty on my cock? Be my good girl?"

Steph moaned as her cunt reflexively tightened at Floyd's words.

"Yeah, you like dirty talk, don't you," Floyd said huskily. "Come on," he urged her. "Tell me thank you for fisting that tight pussy of yours. Show my cock how grateful you are with that hot little cunt -"

Steph came with a gasp, not as fiercely as she had on Floyd's fist, but in a way that felt happy and warm, like the way she'd hugged Floyd last night before losing her temper at him, when she'd felt safe and connected, and then Floyd was speeding up and coming, too, and then Steph was wrapped up in his arms as her pussy fluttered around him a little longer while they both came down.

"You've never killed anybody for free before, huh?" Steph mumbled a few minutes later, her eyes still shut and Floyd's cock slowly softening inside of her.

"Nope," Floyd smiled into her neck.

Steph let out a happy sigh that drifted into a sleepy smile.

"I need a nap," she murmured.

"Go ahead, honey," Floyd said, pulling out and tying off the condom.

He laid back down next to her and gently tugged her into his arms, and Steph couldn't help cuddling close and letting her mind shut down - the worry, the guilt, the terrible ticklings of affection and her lingering haze of desire and most of all the pernicious, no-way-possible, worse-than-a-bad-idea, no-way-in-hell-would-it-work-out-and-it-would-probably-destroy-her-life-as-she-knew-it longing that Deadshot would stay, and not just for the afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is a fine angsty mess I've led them into *author quickly escapes via open ending* 
> 
> Don't encourage me to longfic this, please. Really. I half-heartedly beg you. IT'S MY NEW FAVORITE RAREPAIR as;ldfkjasdfk;ljhasdlkf; 
> 
> Comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr as @River9Noble. Come say hi!


End file.
